


A Moment in Time (A Collection of Inquisitor Mara Lavellan's Stories)

by altoclefgirl



Series: Dwell Within [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullavellan - Freeform, Cullen Rutherford Fluff, Eventual Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), F/M, Lavellan/Solas Angst (Dragon Age), Lavellan/Solas Fluff (Dragon Age), POV Cullen Rutherford, POV Lavellan (Dragon Age), POV Solas (Dragon Age), Past Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Solas Lavellan Cullen Love Triangle, Solavellan Hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28326141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altoclefgirl/pseuds/altoclefgirl
Summary: This work is a collection of short stories of Inquisitor Mara Lavellan and is a part of the Dwell Within Series.Thank you so much for your enthusiasm and love of Mara's story.  My deepest thanks for joining me in this unexpected and truly remarkable journey.While much of me lives within Mara, I do not share her eloquence.  From the bottom of my heart, I hold so much gratitude for my readers. I love to hear your experiences with the story, whether that's fan theories, burning questions, or sharing gorgeous fanart.The first of these stories were requested moments by readers. As always, please feel free to follow me on socials for more story engagement.alto.writes Insta|AltoWrites Twitter|altoclefgirl Tumblr|altoclefgirl Ko-FiMa serannas, Falons.
Relationships: Dalish (Dragon Age: Inquisition)/Fen'Harel, Dalish (Dragon Age: Inquisition)/Solas, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Dwell Within [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074359
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10





	1. Snapshots of Winter:: 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was requested by readers as the first kiss shared between Mara and Solas after the Fade kiss. <3  
> 9:41 Dragon is the inaugural year of the Inquisition.

At Herald’s Rest, Mara sought the tavern’s namesake but remained unassuming as she waded through the murmuring crowd to the gruff and uncordial barkeep, keeping in line with the odd affect received by passerby and companions.

The barkeep filled a wine glass with a sad attempt of a decent white wine, but Mara managed a small smile as she received the glass, tapping her fingers along the stem as she considered her placement.

Herald’s Rest was bustling that evening, with Bull’s Chargers filling their gullets with some imported concoction too strong for the surrounding Inquisition recruits. The Commander was staged in shadows in a corner table, Leliana whispering to him and with other leaders in his army. The Commander gave a stern look as Mara scanned the first floor of the tavern, apparently serious even when relaxed among peers. She lowered her eyes to the glass before her, retreating, and accepting to continue the lonesome choices as their leader.

For a moment she closed her eyes, seriously considering setting down the wine and walking away from the crowded yet disproportionately lonely atmosphere before a voice joined her side.

“You’re welcome to join me Inquisitor, that is if you’re looking for somewhere to belong.”

 _Belong_. A feeling she distinctly hadn’t felt too strongly whether in the care or throes of the Inquisition… except for the brief moments in this man’s company.

Mara opened her eyes to the incredible gesture, but one she deduced was likely made out of polite regard.

The mage had changed out of his armor from their latest concluded quest that afternoon, wearing a dark, heavy coat donning a wolf pelt over his right shoulder. Something about his offer tonight felt warm in undertones. Or perhaps that was her hope in the heat of the bustling tavern and the roar of the fireplace.

“That’s kind of you Solas...” Partway through speaking Mara pulled her eyes from her glass to meet the gaze of his extraordinary grey-blue eyes, a more softened look than he often displayed in company. She looked for a reason to say no, but any encounter or small touch of his made her heart flutter and quietly continue longing. Weeks after their only intimate moment, her heart reeled while her mind entrusted her to subdue such foolish notions.

She gave a small but genuine smile with a nod, following the apostate to a corner table unoccupied by allies or friends or the stumbling patron.

Mara took a seat across from the mage, looking elsewhere among the room instead of where she wanted—where she could too easily lose focus leading to feelings of blushed and unreturned warmth.

“Forgive me in my delay. I don’t believe I have properly congratulated you on your appointment as Inquisitor.” As expected, his poise and good manners baffled her welcoming heart.

A thanks in _Common_ was stopped before passing on her tongue, instead the Elvhen she was secure in producing flowed forth. “ _Ma serannas_.” A glance to him then away. A silent sigh filled and escaped her, bringing the wine to her mouth to douse this disjointed feeling. 

Everything about her puzzled him. The way her actions never matched his anticipated response. How the choices she made were starkly unlike leaders he had observed over time in the Fade. She was genuine, unafraid in her delegations, and yet humble and even doubting herself. Oh, how the doubt was gravely misplaced.

A small grin colored his face, allowing for this space to be whatever she needed, even if that were silence with someone akin.  
  


With each breath in his company, Mara slowly began to relax, and the worrisome thoughts of feeling like an imposter diminished. She couldn’t discern if it was the impact of some lost magic he cast, or his presence himself, but she was grateful.

After a moment and the near emptiness of her wine glass, Mara finally spoke up. “I think I’m going to retire for the evening. Thank you for letting me join you, Solas.” Despite her best effort, her cheeks colored rose at his name.

And against his better judgment, Solas offered “I’ll walk with you.”

Mara led in the blistering winds, swirled in snow in the midnight blue of the late evening. She stopped and turned about ten paces away from the Herald’s Rest, her dirty blonde hair whipping and framing her face among the moonlight and porcelain white of the snow.

“Is something wrong, Inquisitor?” Solas’ brows dared to furrow as he sought to read her face and her stopped pace. Even in the chill of an incoming winter storm he appeared stoic and unaffected by the cold.

Mara shook her head. “You’re so quiet. I wasn’t sure if you were even following.”

Solas let out a low chuckle, his breath materializing in the small space in between them. “I apologize. I will stay alongside you then.”

Mara brandished a small smile, with her breath briefly hitching as his hand found the small of her back to lead her forward. The thrill of such small intimacies took too much to quell, and the notion spun another gaze at the dashing mage. The closeness surreal, they glided through the snow-covered grounds and ascended the staircase into the hold. The brasiers dim in amber light, the great hall opened to the quiet crowd of two. Their steps quietly clambered against the floor, each step slowed as they faced the door to her suite. Mara pressed back into the door, now ajar and inviting.

Mara took a breath in anticipating a goodnight when a hand swept the snow from her shoulder. And lingered.

“You’re dusted in snow, _lethallan_.” What had softened this quiet and reserved man? He looked to her almost amused, but the feeling of awe superseded as she became the focus of his gaze.

Mara’s eyes widened, full in anticipation as his fingers trailed and swept through her hair, his thumb resting at the height of her cheekbone.

“Few would have made the choices you made.” Solas paused, watching as her eyes displayed awaited scrutiny. “I imagine it must feel rather solitary in your role as Herald…but I think you’re doing beautifully.”

If it was possible for her heart to leap out of her chest, this was it. Her cheeks and the tip of her ears darkened to a dusty rose as her heart foolishly grew fonder. It was a moment before Mara could speak as a smile beamed at his proclamation. “What you think matters so much to me.” Mara swallowed as his thumb caressed her cheek. “I admire what you bring to the Inquisition—your stories, your remarkable insight. And… _you_. I admire you, Solas.”

The hand not tangled in her blonde waves moved to the small of her waist, gesturing to share this space and moment with him unafraid as the tenderness the apostate harbored surfaced for this divine woman. Her brilliant and blue eyes searched his, unbeknownst to them they had met their match.

“You want this?” The mage asked as his fingers weaved into the thick of her hair, eliciting a tender response for Mara to tilt her head back, mouth parted and beckoning for his affections.

“Yes.” Mara’s gaze was fixed on his breathtaking features, the allure for his heart and mind at its precipice. Of all the doubt cast on her actions or inactions, this resounding and heavy current swelled and stirred magnificently within her. The yearning of his brilliance evoked the most glorious of desires to be understood, to be seen, to be captivated, to be cherished.

The apostate couldn’t recall when a soul could be read and understood through her brimming eyes. A woman whose depth, if those dared to gaze, was magnificent in her care for the world and for each being. A woman whose shoulders bore the weight of Thedas, and with one hand the mystique of great power.

Yet she was genuine. And seemingly incorruptible, a leader thrust into the Game with her virtues leading choices few would be bold and compassionate enough to make.

And the dream of her lips and heart and mind could unravel every great plan. And she was asking to be loved and for her to be the woman who dared to dream with him.

“I am yours, Solas.” Mara whispered, her eyes full and teeming with the beautiful adoration she had held for so long. 

“ _Ma nuvenin, ma vhenan’ara.”_ Solas promised before he dove to the perfection and wanting of her lips, her produced sigh deepening the illplaced stirring and longings of his tired soul. It was impossible not to live in hope in her presence, dividing his better sense and his aching soul. But she was remarkable, and her eyes reflected the splendor of her spirit.

Her lips returned his promise with tenderness, an unbridled adoration bursting through every touch of her lips and fingers that had anchored herself to his stature. Prismatic, inspired, and heavenly. She had captured him as he had captured her, instilled in their marvel for one another. So much unknown of the days and the world to come, and yet her radiance cast away the dark he feared within himself.

How could all of this be felt for a woman who had mistakenly handled both the artifact and his soul?

Fondly his lips showered her in devotion, from her own full lips, the height of her cheekbone marked in Mythal’s vallaslin, down to her jaw, and ending at her neck. Each kiss flowed forth easier than the last, his guard falling at her enchantment. 

Solas paused, listening as her panting echoed along the hallway to her suite; something marvelous and deep seeded had awoken in her too. But he had stolen enough of himself for the moment.

His lips traced the curvature her face, pulling her in closer for one last moment to be taken by her. Solas watched as her eyes opened, in awe of the grandeur of his returning desire. She was a sight to behold, and if only to forever hold.

In a final act, Solas brought her hands to his mouth in a parting kiss. “Sleep well, ma Vhenan.”

And the wolf receded into the darkness as quietly as he followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma serannas = my thanks/thank you  
> lethallan = reference for someone you are familiar with  
> Ma nuvenin, ma vhenan'ara = as you wish, my heart's desire


	2. Snapshots of Winter:: Early 9:42 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dread Wolf's freefall.

In recent days, Solas conceded to his heart and his ever growing feelings for the Inquisitor, inquiring for yet another welcomed stay in the bliss of evenings with hands and limbs and her long blonde hair tangled in slumber. Solas could not fathom why such a brilliant woman would ever return his fondness, offering her extraordinary love to someone in whom she had not witnessed the darkness that also called his soul. 

He had, yet again, knocked on the door of her suite to ask for his stay, in which she would without hesitancy reiterate her promise. _Your stay is always welcome, my heart_.

In the evening, Solas leafed through recent reports on the activated artifacts strengthening the Veil across Thedas on the sofa in her suite. The fireplace sparked to a mid-roar as the heavy snow continued to fall upon Skyhold. Mara stirred from her light sleep and Solas shuffled through the reports. She had curled up next to him, and soon had leaned into him, resting her head on his chest as she drifted off to sleep. Solas read with his left hand, doting small affections with his right hand in between page turns. His arm had moved from resting against the curve of her hip to now running his hand through the thick of her soft and golden hair. Mara stirred at the affection, smiling as she readjusted and turned on her back so that her head now rested in his lap.

Solas moved his papers to view her, letting out a small chuckle as she had awoken. “Do you want me to tuck you in, Vhenan?” Solas whispered, his hand brushing her hair away from her face. “I still have some reading to do and I know you’ve had quite the day.”

Mara groggily shook her head, training her eyes to adjust to the light.

Another chuckle from the apostate. “My lap is no pillow, my heart. And you can stretch out in your bed. Which you love to do.” A smirk had formed at the corner of his lips at the last line, waking Mara further. Solas liked to point out that she enjoyed taking the majority of her bed, including the space meant for him.   
“I like being close to you.” She countered as a grin broke her face.

“You like laying on top of me. There’s a difference.”

This time Mara produced a soft laugh, eying the beautiful man before her, or rather above her, as she laid in his lap.

Solas looked to his report, feigning to read a line before looking back to her, noticing she was now watching him intently.

“What are those, your bedroom eyes?” Solas retorted, displaying a playful side he often didn’t show.

“I mean…” Mara stared, her face reddening. “They’re not… _not_ bedroom eyes.” Maker. The bashful side of her showed now. “I’m just… admiring you.” Mara raised her hand to his face, daring to caress his cheek along with his sharp and stoic features. “You’re breathtaking, Solas.”

“ _Vhenan_.” Solas gave in to her resonating charm, rather smoothly lifting their bodies, lowering himself to lay atop of her. “ _Ma sa’lath_.” His hands deftly ran through her hair, ending in a gentle tug and the caress of her bottom lip. The sentiment of her chosen endearment was in actuality truth. Mara held his heart so dearly, beguiling a hope unworthy of him. But she was a taste of everything resplendent in this life, and she was deserving of the relics and restoration of their lost ways. 

Mara was the great divide, a reflection of his innermost desires. Earnest, exquisite. And if he allowed himself, she would be everything.

A soft hum beneath him pulled Solas from his thoughts and back to the decadence of the present. Eyes and heart transfixed to the lover below, the Wolf whispered an inviting notion. “Dream with me, my love.” The beautifully changing patterns of his expression entwined with the offer arose to a freefall. In this second Solas invited her further than he had ever dared. 

This enchanting request did not go unnoticed, and Mara—ever so willingly—opened her spirit further to him. “Will you show me?”

It was one matter to believe she possessed the attuned skill to become a _Somniari_ , but to join this Dreamer in a freefall is a venture she would endure unafraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma sa'lath = my one love  
> Somniari = Tevene word for a _Dreamer_ , someone capable of entering the Fade at will


	3. Snapshots of Winter:: Late 9:42 Dragon

“Scorching, sweltering, boiling. The dragon blazes her prey too quick for folly. But she’s maimed.” Urgently Cole carried in the Inquisitor to Skyhold’s great hall, Mara’s left arm around Cole’s neck and his arm around her waist supporting most of her weight. 

Alarmed, the Commander ran over to Cole and Mara from his quiet chat with Charter. “What happened, Cole?” The Commander scanned Mara’s body as she fought a grimace from indiscernible pain.

“The high dragon burns as her final fight. A flame to her back as she fell. Mara… she ran out of magic.”

Cullen nodded quickly surmising Cole’s tale. “Get us a healer Cole. NOW!” In Cole’s quick disappearance, Cullen caught Mara before she had a chance to fall. “I got you, Inquisitor.” Cullen exhaled reviewing all the peering eyes in the great hall, watching their great leader’s fall. “Let’s take you to your room for privacy.”  
Cullen helped Mara place her arm around his shoulders, securing her to help guide her across the great hall and up through the staircase to her suite.

“The sofa,” Mara whispered, Cullen helping her down on the couch in her suite, angling her perpendicular with her right side accessible. Mara faced the wall lining her bed; the expanse of the balcony behind her.

Cullen stepped back briefly, giving Mara space to begin removing the armor over her burns. He watched as Mara fought to remove her right gauntlet and the pain it entailed. She started on her pauldron but could not suppress the wail of pain that rolled out of her.

“Inquisitor.” Cullen rushed to kneel at her level. “ _Please_.” Cullen begged, watching as her full eyes began to mist either in the pain or the fight of acknowledging the pain. ”May I help you?”

In heavy breaths Mara considered his offer and after a moment began to nod before a conversation rounded the staircase.

“And _why_ hasn’t anything been done?” The all too familiar huff of the apostate’s voice boomed as Cole trailed him.

Mara closed her eyes tightly. She could not bear his pain or presence in a moment of sheer vulnerability. A war waged in her mind as she mustered her last shred of composure. _Were no other mages available?_

“The offering to heal, restore, repair. By their hands and verses, they can rebuild something new.” Cole had to offer hope, but could he _not_ feel the turmoil and despair eating her each day and night?

Mara kept her eyes lowered to the arm of the sofa before her, listening as the men moved about the suite and to her side.

“Cole said she was burned by a high dragon. And her magic had depleted.” Thank you Commander for summarizing her weakness.

Mara closed her eyes again as Solas had unmistakably moved closer, standing behind her to view her right side. How is it the heart imbues a sense to perceive a lover’s presence?

Solas peered, noting the considerable burns in between her armor, her skin scarlet even from the little skin visible. His features remained stern as he reviewed her.

“I’ll numb the skin first, then we can remove the armor to view the extent of the burns.” Solas directed, taking a seat directly behind her on the couch. The artist’s hands gently swept the blonde hair away from her back, his fingertips smoothly trailing her neckline in an intimacy he had forfeit a month ago.

The curse and the plight of a lover who does not return. How incorrigible the wolf treads.

Mara opened her eyes as she felt a weight drop onto her lap, dispersing the fog of misery in her mind.

“Here. To cover.” Cole offered as he laid a sheet for her as Solas was about to begin. How astute Cole’s mind when the clarity of her vulnerability charged the air around them.

Cullen recognized when he would not be of further help. “I will go, Inquisitor.”

“Actually Commander I could use your assistance. As Cole brings me different potions and tonics, I could use your aid in carefully removing the armor to apply the salves.”

Perhaps Solas also could not bear to be alone with her. Only enough to leave her in a Wyvern cave.

“I—“Cullen began, looking to the apostate and the Inquisitor’s stiffened back, finally nodding. “Of course, anything to help her Highness.”

Solas produced the briefest nod before deliberately raising his hands to hover over her right shoulder and back, whispering some incantation, soft wisps of blue magic escaping his open palm.

Mara audibly exhaled from the rather fortunate relief.

“It’s better.” Cole began. “She hurts less, but there is still so much that burns, that chastens.”

There was no reply in the room to Cole’s projection.

“The pauldron next and then the chest piece.” Solas directed. In odd and small numbed nudges, Mara felt as Solas’ fingers pressed into her side, loosening the straps of her pauldron. Cole fluttered and reappeared just before Mara on the couch, sitting across from her, holding the sheet to drape along her front in modesty. Mara focused on Cole, in the small and defining moments in which he saved her world. She met her spirit friend’s gaze, he and his hat close enough to shelter them both under its breadth.

Wounds may open under his faultless guise, but the shackles too may lend itself to cathartic liberation.

Mara sharply inhaled as the pauldron and chest piece were lifted from her skin, the great sting of the burns overpowering the numbing enchantment.

“I thought you said you would numb her.” Cullen’s voice rose somewhere to her right in a spout of anger. Cullen viewed her in remorse and empathy, noting the burns that scaled from her shoulder down to her lower back. 

“The extent of the burns were more than I anticipated.” Solas huffed, raising his hands again with open palms to her back, whispering new and extended enchantments as more blue magic wafted over her porcelain and crimson skin. Mara exhaled as the numbing magic returned with relief. “Commander, take her armor. Cole, there are salves of elfroot on her counter.” Before Solas could finish his order, Cole was back with several salves.

A shiver broke on Mara’s shoulders as the armor that had kept her heat in no longer clothed her. “Here.” Cole arrived again opposite her, adjusting the sheet so that it now draped over her left shoulder and back while still concealing her front. “I know it’s cold.” Cole began, gently raising an open palm to her cheek. “It will be better soon. You’ll see.”

Mara nodded, her teeth chattering. In a moment Solas configured the elfroot with his own magic, somehow sealing and beginning to heal the massive burns along her back without another touch.

Her shaking slowed as Solas continued until finally the pain from the burns resolved.

“The remnants and remaining pain should subside in a few days to a week.” Solas sighed, lifting himself from the sofa and away from the Inquisitor. “Please let me know if the burns get worse.”

The apostate walked away, the sound of the door to her suite closing echoed briefly.

“He doesn’t know. Riding the boundary. It baffles him. Confuses him. Longing, lingering in pause. In wake.” Cole whispered, just to Mara whose composure had finally broke. Her eyes misted and welled, moisture falling with a quick swipe of the back of her hand.

Cullen stood, backing away from affairs he did not understand. “I’ll go, Inquisitor. I’m glad you are safe.”

Mara wiped away the moisture from her face before turning to face her Commander, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than she had in a long time.

“He can help.” Cole interrupted before Mara spoke. “You should be bandaged. And he knows how.”

Before either the Commander or Inquisitor could interject, Cole appeared back with bandages.

Cullen had to stop himself from chuckling at Cole’s absurdity, but he wasn’t wrong. “Inquisitor, if you don’t mind, I can help.”

_Maker end this day already_.

Cole disappeared from the suite. Mara nodded to Cullen silently, her eyes following as Cullen hesitantly walked toward the couch, easing down behind her.

“I promise to uphold your honor, Inquisitor. I…” Cullen’s voice trailed searching for the right words.

“Thank you, Commander.” Mara responded in the absence of fitting words.

The sterile gauze in his hands, Cullen viewed the pattern of burns and considered how to wrap, ignoring the intrusive thoughts of her gorgeous curvature. “I’ll need to wrap the burn near your waist, and I think I can manage your shoulder to allow as much function as needed.”

Mara nodded, remaining quiet.

“I-erm,” Cullen cleared his throat out of discomfort. “The sheet.”

In silence, Mara dropped the sheet from her body, raising her arms slightly to gather her blonde and cascading hair away from her back. Cullen continued the silence, gently pressing a hand to the small of her waist to hold the beginning of the gauze, taking his other arm to wrap the bandage around her waist, pulling clockwise around her abdomen then to her back in three rotations, narrowly grazing any hint of warm and perfect skin. Cullen hadn’t realized he was holding his breath in hideous fear that he would have held or touched this Holy woman.

“And my shoulder?” Mara asked, extending her right arm to the side.

And the nerves coursed through his. “Yes, Inquisitor.” The Commander’s warm breath hit Mara’s neck, slightly calming her, distracting her from the bandages wrapping around her shoulder and upper arm. His touch was gentle in a way the numbing couldn’t explain, and with it care and careful consideration. 

This thought and the sheer miracle of an unintended moment of closeness gave her goosebumps. Cullen watched the chill descend along her spine, and with it an untimely view of her as an exquisite and lovely woman.

Cullen swallowed, lifting and retreating briefly for the silk garment hanging off the chair at her desk. “Your robe, Inquisitor,” The Commander offered to her, his gaze lowered as he laid the garment next to her. Cullen turned fully away from her, already seeing too much just in the curvature of her back.

Mara took the robe and stood, stiffly slipping it on over her right side and bandages, pulling the robe closed at her chest and tying the belt securely at her waist.

“Thank you, Commander.” Mara began, unsure of how to justly move forward from her moment of compounded weakness. “Thank you for helping me in my time of need… It’s safe to turn.” Mara added, noting his hesitancy as he faced her balcony.

Mara watched as the warrior turned, uncertainty coloring his face. “Always, Inquisitor.” Cullen cleared his throat. “Might I ask… He didn’t even address you. I thought you two were…”

Mara inhaled, looking elsewhere and forcing the dammed feelings to hold out a little longer. At least to wait until she’s alone.

Cullen noticed the flutter in her eyes and her resolve to combat whatever pain she held.

Mara was quiet a moment before speaking, finally facing Cullen. She hadn’t noticed the evening was spent, the sundown casting a beautiful golden haze on her Commander. “...Shatters the theory that I’m invincible.”

Cullen stepped forward, his expression a little heavy but as he advanced his gaze turned towards hope. “No one is asking for you to be, Inquisitor…” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth “Even so, you are the bravest person I have ever known.”

Coming from a man who walked alongside heroes as part of his lot in life, it was an astounding claim. “I'm not so sure that's true these days, but it's kind of you. Thank you, Cullen.”

Verses of healing, even from somewhere else, were cast that evening unto her heart.


	4. Snapshots of Winter:: Eve of 9:44 Dragon

The tavern crackled in warmth from the burning fireplace and the chatter among the companions. The draft of the ice-laced wind forced patrons to station furthest away from the front door, and yet all turned to face each subsequent guest, eyes widening as another fellow in arms and victory passed the threshold.

It was well into the evening when the final guest arrived, the tavern a glow of gold and silver tapestries to earmark the occasion. It had been months, or a better part of a year, since the companions congregated for any formal or informal event. The winter solstice and Common holiday deemed a special occasion, and yet the invitation just made of the Inquisitor—and her Inquisition—was a timely request for her gathered kin.

But tonight she would put on good cheer, or at least the mask, and celebrate a year free from Corypheus’ challenged reign and defeat with those who still stood with her.

But not the Ben-Hassrath spy whose life she had taken in his betrayal.

Nor the lover who had infiltrated her dreams and the still moments in between.

“Inquisitor Lavellan.” Dorian’s gleeful Tevinter accent drew out her title in a way mirroring his own esteem. “To the mage who slays her fearsome foes, and to all those who _wish_ to slay her.” His coy euphemism wasn’t beyond even the soberest of attendees. Dorian continued with a slightly less loud aside but well enough for his audience to hear. “Forgive me love, but they’ve _all_ got eyes for you.”

Feigning a smile, it would all be over soon. They would nod and turn their backs to resume a story of glorified heroics in their year apart. And she could retreat to her post as wallflower, away from the shared merriment in which it was one too many to feign. Or at least until gifts were exchanged.

It was unfortunate how notable the glances arose from several members of the Inquisition after Dorian’s last remark. _Too many._

“Wanting, wishing, and wondering. They wonder why she withdrawals. They could ask. They could know she’s nothing like they expected.” 

Cole’s testimony was more real than she cared to be shared, but few noticed the just appeared young rogue in his bobbing hat and remarkable reflection of those who ventured to know his Spirit.

  
“I’m glad you’re here, Cole.” Mara placed her right hand gently on the shoulder of his patched tunic, giving more affection to him than anyone in recent days and months.

“You were thinking of me. And I can help.” Some may have considered his thoughts or actions intrusive, but Mara knew an abyss of immense compassion and need to help others lied within him.

Mara gave his shoulder a squeeze before pulling back. “Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

Mara led Cole to a private nook away from the majority of the party. It was surprising how much quieter this small room was off the main chamber. Mara breathed in the sight and quiet, turning to her friend. “I think you know that our Inner Circle drew names to gift someone, as part of the _Common_ holiday.” Mara looked down, holding out a rather large bag strung in gold ribbon. “I drew your name, Cole. This is for you.”

Mara handed the bag to Cole but before he even began to open it, he read her thoughts. “You had this crafted, in care, in kind. You want to give me something I will like.”

Mara let out a small chuckle. “You’re supposed to open the present to see the gift for yourself, Cole.” This was also told in care and Cole felt that in her bravado.

Cole drew a blade, beginning to slice the parchment of the gift bag in amazingly clean lines, the parchment falling to reveal a hat exactly like the one he wore, but constructed with all new materials. 

“I’ve had it enchanted.” Mara began, even though Cole could easily read her. “That way it’ll protect you wherever you’re at.” Mara swallowed, reasoning that it’s okay and safe to share these feelings with Cole. “This way I’m always looking out for you.”

Cole’s hands felt the brim of his new hat for a moment, before diving a hand into an inner pocket within his armor to retrieve… something. Mara leaned back to rest on the leather armchair in wait.

“For you. Heaviness breaks, unrelenting. Words and thoughts spun, swirled, stuck. They consume.” Cole handed the Inquisitor a leatherbound book, golden letters fading to name an Elvhen lexicon. “This will help the words—flowing, faring, free in your native tongue.”

Mara’s eyes widened and in shaky hands received the leatherbound book, thankful she was now sitting as the weight could have snapped her into a collapse. She swallowed, her throat tightening as there were no words. And that was precisely why the Spirit nudged her along, asking her to reopen wounds to feel what she had poorly tucked away for so long.

Mara exhaled deeply, Cole coming back into view as he knelt before her, placing a hand atop of hers holding the bound lexicon. “The light is still there, fervent and radiant. The shadows are not here to stay. And you have what it takes to cast them away.”

Mara inhaled, her body slightly trembling. Cole squeezed her hand tightly, some beautiful wave of warmth cascading from her hands to her heart and every place within her that had been cast in darkness. After a moment she gave him a smile and a squeeze of the rogue’s hand. “I’m so thankful you chose me.”

From the periphery, Cullen stumbled upon the intimate exchange as he walked the perimeter of the party, noting the passing of the hat and book between rogue and Inquisitor. Cullen inhaled sharply, confused as his fingers strummed across the whiskey glass in his hand. He had requested a trade from Dorian, Blackwall, and then Cassandra as the one chosen with gifting the Inquisitor for their _Common_ holiday gifting. And it appeared the kid stole the show and glory.

After a shared moment of heaviness, the Spirit disappeared and shortly after the Inquisitor stood making her way to the balcony.

Cullen watched as the Inquisitor retreated, finding or rather seeking solace on the balcony. He weighed his options, considering if the exchange was still salvageable. After a moment, he swirled the remaining whiskey in his glass before bringing it to his mouth to prompt liquid courage.

Cullen opened the glass door to the balcony, the stark cold of the night breezing by him as he struggled with a greeting. “Mind if I accompany you, Inquisitor?”

Mara faced the expanse of the view, leaning against the stone balcony as the anchor dared to pulse in her left arm and hand. It was a moment before Mara could respond, waiting for the overwhelming shooting and sudden pain to subside.

“Of course, Commander.” Mara turned and offered a small smile, concealing the weight of what she held. “How are you faring this evening?”

Cullen observed her tightened lips and slightly reddened eyes, his heart dropping a little at her saddened state. “I’m all right. Thank you, Inquisitor.” Cullen paused, walking forward to the edge of the balcony to join Mara under the tapestry of stars. “Did you exchange gifts with Cole?” Okay, it was a leading question. Perhaps he could salvage the mix up.

“We did.” Mara nodded, drawing her eyes from the landscape to the view of her Commander. “Somehow we chose one another.”

Cullen attempted to read her face, finding that whatever Cole had given her provided her with some sense of peace. But there was more that she carried.

“Is…something the matter, Inquisitor?”

Even work trailed her on a night of their celebration. Mara sighed and the leader in her now colored her features.

“We have been asked to the Exalted Council next month to discuss the purpose of the Inquisition now that perceived peace has been achieved.” Mara crossed her arms to steady herself in an incoming wave of anger. “They’re bringing into question our power and authority. And it’s likely they’ll vote to disband us.” This was a tough loss to swallow, but it made sense for the others who had begun to move on in their lives. Dorian wrote about his new beginnings in Tevinter. Word of Sera and the Red Jenny’s was scattered across Thedas. The new Divine had taken power. And Cullen, when not joining her with delegates and diplomatic sightings was tending to his new interest in helping other ex-Templars break their addiction to Lyrium. It was admirable. _All_ of it was admirable. But the feeling of being left to be forgotten was a loss relentless enough to break her spirit. To wait for her quiet demise in the silence of her own harrowing pain.

Cullen viewed Mara’s demeanor change, an air of frailty he was not used to seeing. To disband was to forfeit her lot in life. And without the Inquisition, who was she? Cullen’s mouth opened to object to this idea that she could be anything but remarkable, even if she were to be led in another direction.

Mara interceded. “I’m sorry. Tonight is meant to commemorate our triumphs.” Mara paused, turning her gaze from the view from the balcony to the sight of the golden warrior. “Was there something you needed, Commander?”

Cullen fingered the scribed invitation set in gold filigree inside his coat pocket, tapping the seal as he considered. After a pause he stammered, “N-No, Inquisitor.” Cullen withdrew his hand from the pocket of his coat, only to extend his hand in a gesture. “Humor me, will you? If these moments are few to come, join me in this revelry then?”

This sheer wonder left her dazed, muting what pain threatened to course through her left arm as heat arose, first to the deft and warm hand gently placed at her waist, the second heat burning her cheeks in a soft blush. Mara secured his hand in good measure, gravitating to the warrior who still stood with her. The bard’s song carried in hums with the accompanied strings. Cullen led in tempo with the slow strings, feeling as Mara pulled closer to him in their sway, whether for the cold, the company, or truly to join in this reverie under the illuminated night sky.

If only he had asked at the beginning, he could have enjoyed so much more with her.

“I want you to know.” Cullen began as Mara’s head narrowly missed resting on the Commander’s chest with each step. “Whatever is to come… please know you’re not alone.”

It was a beautiful sentiment—one that she didn’t know how to receive. But he was good and honorable. And she would always hold gratitude for his part in their shared world and duty.

“I’ve troubled you enough for this evening, Inquisitor.” The Commander voiced as the bard’s song had come to its finale.

“It’s never a trouble Commander.” Mara pulled back from their hold. From the first time all evening a genuine smile formed from her. “You should get back to the celebration. I’m sure you’ll be missed.” Mara turned, stepping back to open the balcony door. Chanting bellowed from the first floor as the party counted down to midnight.

“Will you be joining us?” Perhaps the sentiment of the gift could be given. A reserved smile broke from the Commander as he ventured hoping, stepping forward to her. And yet somehow he knew.

The crowd was now shouting into the single digits.

Her soft yet troubled smile meant no. “Enjoy it for me, will you?” Snow had started to fall, dousing them both in a magical and timely flurry. Mara slowly looked up at the star blanketed sky and the snowflakes that befell, her eyes falling upon his portrait. 

Time could not be discerned as the counting fell to one with celebration inside, but more importantly the time in which Mara held his gaze for some indiscriminate period, before looking down in a rose colored smile. It was uncertain whether the Inquisitor knew of the _Common_ tradition of an imparted embrace at the moment the new year began, but it could have been everything to start this year with her.

“Happy New Year, Cullen.”

She left the snow and the sight of a new year, departing in one last shared smile. Cullen watched the sight of her disappear through the balcony doors, but the warmth of her failed to flee. The warrior thumbed the invitation in his coat, accepting that it would never be read by anyone other than himself and the scribe.

_9:44 Dragon_

_New Year’s Day 19:00 hours_

_The Teahouse_

_Ser Commander Cullen requests Her Majesty’s Presence_

And then another line unmistakably added in the Commander’s hand.

_Will you join me for dinner?_


End file.
